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THE NAMELESS ONE 



THE 

NAMELESS ONE 

A Play in Three Acts 

BY 

ANNE CLEVELAND CHENEY 




NEW YORK 

FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



1% 3S»S 



Copyright, 1916, by 
Frederick A. Stokes Company 



1912, by Anne Cleveland Cheney, as dramatic composition, 
The Firstborn." All rights reserved, including that 
of translation into foreign languages. 




January, 1916 



M 13 1916 



©OLD 4274(5 



TO THE MEMORY OF 

A MOST LOVING AND FAITHFUL FATHER 

THIS 

DRAMA OF FATHERHOOD 

IS INSCRIBED 



CHARACTERS 

EDWARD, LORD FAUKNER 
LADY FAUKNER, His Young Wife 
FATHER MICHAEL, Chaplam to Lord Faukner 
LORD OF MISRULE, Master of Yule Ceremonies 

in Lord Faukner's Household 
CONSTANCE, Lady Faukner 's Attendant 
MASTER LOCKET, Keeper of an Inn 
MISTRESS LOCKET, His Wife 
SNICK-UP, a Lad of 16, Serving about the Inn 

Stables 
MIDGE, a Young Maid Serving at the Inn 

HAL lo 

^ a T-.-T. * r Servants at the Inn 
GAFFA J 

A WANDERING FRIAR 

Minstrels, Pages, Footmen, a Falconer, a Turnkey, 
etc. 



Scene: London and the southern part of Norfolk, 

England. 
Time : During the Sixteenth century. 



SCENES 



Ac: 



Act II. 



Act III. 



An apartment in Lord Faukner's Lon- 
don house 
scene i: The courtyard of an inn on 
the southern coast of Nor- 
folk, England 
A garden-close at the inn 
A cell of an old prison, a 
mile from the inn 
The inn courtyard 
The prison cell again 
Once more, the courtyard 



SCENE II 

scene i 

SCENE II 
SCENE III : 
SCENE IV : 



Four months are supposed to elapse between Acts 
I and II; two weeks between Acts II and III. 

In Act II, twelve hours are supposed to pass be- 
tween the first and second scenes. 



THE NAMELESS ONE 



THE NAMELESS ONE 



ACT I 

An apartment in Lord Fatjkner's London 
house. At rear a wide arch, hung with arras, 
glimpses a hall and massive staircase of dark 
wood, which mounts to a landing, dappled 
by color from a great rose window; to right 
of the landing, a gallery reaches away into 
shadow; the newel-posts are twined with 
laurel and surmounted by bronze candelabra. 
At right front of the apartment, a leaded 
casement opens inward, showing roofs and 
spires against a splendor of sunset shy. Op- 
posite is a deep fireplace, above which are 
burnished sconces, and on either side, by the 
hearth, two tall candlesticks with thick Yule 
tapers; sconces also branch from the paneled 
walls, at left and right, up the apartment, 
between old portraits, wreathed in Christ- 
mas greens; beneath one of these near the 
1 



2 THE NAMELESS ONE 

casement, is a virginal. Heavily carved 
chairs, blazoned with the Faukner arms, 
shorn against the wainscot. Near the fire- 
place, is a velvet-covered seat on which a lute 
is lying. A rich-hued carpet stretches over 
the stone floor. Fire and candles are un- 
lighted. 
Sounds of pipe and hautboy and the voices of 
carol-singers float up from the street below. 



CAROL-SINGERS 

It was a star that shed its light, 
Upon a manger poorly dight, 

Three kings rode far to see, 

Three kings rode far to see. 
Now blessings be to that pure star, 
And to those kings that journeyed far, 

To Joseph and Mary, 

To Joseph and Mary! 

[The singing ceases a moment. Two pages 
enter and stand on either side the arch in 
attendance on Father Michael, who en- 
ters hurriedly, handing them his hat and 
cloak.~\ 



THE NAMELESS ONE 3 

FATHER MICHAEL 

Acquaint his lordship that I have returned 
And beg important word with him at once! 
[Exeunt pages. Music sounds again and 

Father Michael crosses to the casement 

where he leans , listening. ~\ 

CAROL-SINGERS 

But praises, praises evermore, 

To Him that Virgin meekly bore, 

To Christ's Nativity, 

To Christ's Nativity! 
For Mother, star and Babe — these three — 

Noel, Noel, Noel! 

[Music ceases. .] 

FATHER MICHAEL 

[Taking money from a wallet at his side and 

throwing it into the street. ,] 
Noel, Noel! 
[Re-enter one of the pages coming down to 

Father Michael.] 

page 
His lordship comes anon. 



4 THE NAMELESS ONE 

FATHER MICHAEL 

[Tossing him a coin.] 

A merry Yule ! 
[The page catches the coin, grinning and 

bowing. 
Exit page. Shouts and laughter from be- 
low.'] 

FATHER MICHAEL 

[Calling to the revelers.] 
Ha, Master Mummer, but ye tumble well! 
Brave — a goodly leap — at it again ! 

[He flings more money down; the voices die 
away; Father Michael closes the case- 
ment and turns toward the arch as Lord 
Fatjkner enters and eagerly approaches 
the priest, speaking in low quick tones.] 



FAUKNER 

Father, what news? O, for God's love, I pray 
Thou hast learned something — something to 

assuage 
This new, mad longing that doth gnaw my 

life! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 5 

FATHER MICHAEL 

Calm thee, my son! I bring thee now clear 

hope — 
A very torch to light thee to thy goal 
Of restitution — 

FATJKNER 

After all the years 
Which locked my soul in dastard negligence — 



FATHER MICHAEL 

[Laying a kindly, interrupting hand upon 
the other's shoulder. ,] 
Abhorrent now unto that newer self, 
Imaged within thy lady's worshiping gaze. 



FATJKNER 

Father, thou sayest right! O, this new self — 
This miracle of change, so mystic wrought, 
By faith in her great steadfast eyes, grown 

deep 
With beatific hope of motherhood! 



6 THE NAMELESS ONE 

FATHER MICHAEL 

[Crossing meditatively to the fireplace.'] 
How matchless white are all the ways of God! 
Not all calamities of earth or hell, 
Drawn down athwart thy life for punishment, 
Could curse thee into such a sure remorse, 
As this transcendent love now hlesseth thee, 
And draws thee to thy knees at last, thy hrow 
Seeking the very dust of penitence! — 

FATJKNER 

But — of thy news, thy news! 

[He flings himself upon the seat near the 
fire.~\ 

FATHER MICHAEL 

My wandering friar 
Hath learned, beyond a doubt, the woman died, 
Within some town to northward, on the Sea — 

FAUKNER 

Aye, where? 

FATHER MICHAEL 

He hath not learned its name, but proof 
She left a child— 



THE NAMELESS ONE 

FAUKNER 
The sex? 



FATHER MICHAEL 

Obscured by doubt; 
For band o' friendly mountebanks harbored 

two — 
A fair-haired boy and girl; both orphans, left 
Upon their hands by chances of the road, 
And wild hap-hazard of the gypsy life. 
'Tis known the woman joined such strolling 

crew, 
For safer journeying from town to town; 
Knowing her death was near, she planned to 

leave 
Her little one with kinsfolk in the north. 



FAUKNER 

The poor girl often spoke to me of such. 

FATHER MICHAEL 

But, ere she reached her goal, she slipped the 

road, 
And flitted into shadow-land. 



S THE NAMELESS ONE 

FATJKNER 

Her child? 

FATHER MICHAEL 

Went onward with the troop, it is believed, 
To those same kinsfolk. There is now a span 
Of ten years reaching from that fateful day 
To this bright Yule-tide eve; yet, even so, 
Can we but learn the town wherein she died, 
There is a thread by which my friar may lead 
Our footsteps in the vagabond, aimless wake 
Of that same strolling band— strangely em- 
powered 
To help one far as thou in high estate. 

FATJKNER 

[Pacing restlessly, ,] 
O high estate, that used its lordly power 
To waken motherhood, and then betray 
To all the struggle and to all the shame! 
[He flings himself down with wretched 
brooding.'] 
What pride of birth— to dower a weakling life 
With doom of bastard! 

[The priest, who has moved to the casement, 
flings it wide.] 



THE NAMELESS ONE 9 

FATHER MICHAEL 

Come, O Penitent, 
Behold how God hath shrived the world to- 
night! 
[The room is in deep shadow; through the 
open casement,, a great star is seen glow- 
ing above a spire. ~\ 

FATJKNER 

[Gazing out by the priest 3 s side.~\ 
Ah, how this eve of His nativity 
Fills all my consciousness with steady light, 
As though a veil were rent before a shrine, 
And I beheld the Mother visioned plain! 
[A woman's voice comes ringing sweet along 
the gallery, .] 

LADY FATJKNER 

[From behind,, singingJ] 
It was a star that shed its light 
Upon a manger poorly dight — 
[Pages swarm the hall with burning tapers, 
like fireflies in the dusk; and touch the 
great candelabra at foot of the stairs so 
that the landing is flooded with light. ,] 



10 THE NAMELESS ONE 

FATHER MICHAEL 

My Lady comes ! 

FAUKNER 

All's bright at her approach! 
[Lady Faukner appears on the landing; 
singing and waving a branch of holly 3 she 
descends. ,] 

LADY FAUKNER 

For Mother, star and Babe — these three — 
Noel, Noel, Noel! 
[Faukner joins in the last three words of 

the refrain and goes up toward her. 
Father Michael closes the casement; the 
pages light the candles along the walls; 
but leave the great Yule candles un- 
lighted.~\ 

LADY FAUKNER 

Sweet Father Michael, how thy genial face 
Doth add new joy to all our Christmas cheer! 
Faith, Master Misrule will no longer dare 
Such antic mummings and such madcap jests, 
Since thou art come ! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 11 

FATHER MICHAEL 

Nay, let his mirth run high, 
For tides of joy must now be at the flood. 
[Lord and Lady Faukner seat themselves. 
The priest stands before them by the fire- 
side; the pages disappear. ,] 



LADY FAUKNER 

How goes the world without this merry eve? 

FATHER MICHAEL 

Be-ribboned wassail bowls, from door to door, 
The dancing wenches bear, and every street 
Bursts into laughter, where the smutty-browed 
And white-smocked mummers tumble and 

grimace : 
The whole world pranks, but turnspit and the 

cook! 

FAUKNER 

I' faith, too busy they, for all the air 
Tells of the savory tasks they now fulfill! 



12 THE NAMELESS ONE 

FATHER MICHAEL 

And as I left my boat and mounted stair, 
Methought th' embankment was a sylvan 

bower ; 
No gateway, balcony or rail but hung 
With garlands o' the holly, laurel, yew, 
And all the green that ever gladdened eye! 
[Music sounds; pages part the arras wide, 
disclosing a gay procession that winds 
down the stairway and across the hall.'] 

LADY FAUKNER 

[Springing up and clapping her hands.] 
O 'tis the Yule-log now. 

FAUKNER 

[Rising quickly.] 

Make way, make way! 

FATHER MICHAEL 

Hail to the Yule! 

[He and Lord Faukner roll the divan back 
from the fireplace, and across the case- 
ment. 
Father Michael hands her Ladyship to 
it.] 



THE NAMELESS ONE 13 

My Lady sits enthroned. 

[Lord Faukner and the priest stand near 
her at either end. 

Enter Lord of Misrule — a silken, sleek 
harlequin, tripping fantastically and wav- 
ing a small torch in his left hand. Follow- 
ing is a hand of gorgeously attired pages, 
bearing the Yule-log engarlanded; next 
minstrels, blowing lustily on pipes, haut- 
boys, etc.; last enters a group of young 
women with garlands and led by Con- 
stance, who carries a delicate wreath 
studded with scarlet berries. 

The Lord of Misrule approaches Lord 
and Lady Faukner, capering and bow- 
ing low. Two pages stand before the 
hearth, holding their precious burden; 
other pages group themselves at left; the 
minstrels at right; the maids stand at cen- 
ter, except Constance, who dances down 
to Lady Faukner and places the Christ- 
mas wreath on her head.~\ 

ALL 

[Shouting as she does so.~\ 

Noel! 

[Music ceases. ,] 



14 THE NAMELESS ONE 

MISRULE 

By your leave, the Yule we light — 

[To musicians.] 
(While music, soft, attunes to sacred rite!) 
Pan and the dryads wreathed by mystic art, 

[Points to the log.] 
With sorcerous rosemary to witch the heart, 
With mistletoe dipt from the sacred oak, 
Holly his nymphs with bleeding fingers broke, 
And lo, each berry glows, a ruddy drop, 
Their eager hands left fall and would not 
stop. 
[To pages,, who move in unison with his wav- 
ing torch.] 
Heave one, heave two, heave three! 

[The log falls into place and the pages step 
away to either end of the hearth.] 

ALL 

Noel, Noel! 

MISRULE 

This torch, here burning, is a precious brand 
From yester-Yule — for, prithee, understand, 
The fresh log must be lighted from the old ; 
'Tis only so shall blessings manifold 



THE NAMELESS ONE 15 

Wait on the Lord and Lady of this hall, 
And scatter bounty to the lowliest thrall ! 
[He signals the musicians, who play softly 
as he bends to light the log. The flames 
leap up.] 
Who throweth twigs upon the Christmas 

blaze, 
Shall see strange omens and in magic ways, 
May portent of the past and future read, 
And signs it shall behoove them close to heed. 
And now Yule candles all must lighted be, 
And garlanded with bay and rosemary ! 

[He beckons the maids; two and two, they 
circle forward in time to livelier music, 
casting each a wreath over the great Yule 
candles at either end of the fireplace. As 
the last wreath falls and the last two maids 
dance back to place, Misrule lights the 
candles. Then Lady Faukner rises and, 
taking some gold pieces from a silken bag 
at her side, flings them toward each 
group.] 

LADY FAUKNER 

In memory o' the myrrh — the gold — the frank- 
incense — 
I give ye merrie Christmasse ! 



16 THE NAMELESS ONE 

[She steps back as they duck for the gold 
with laughter and shout s.~\ 

ALL 

Noel, Noel! 

MISRULE 

[Capering forward to Lord and Lady 
Faukner.] 
And now, my gentles, we must all away, 
With thanks, like little dogs that bound and 

play, 
About our heels and well-nigh trip us up; 
And after that my Lord and Lady sup, 
A mask we shall present to tickle such 
As love high humor with a racy touch. 

[At the beginning of the last speech, the 
musicians have filed out; then the maids 
and men; lastly, Misrule leads Con- 
stance by the hand and goes capering and 
dancing away with her, kissing her under 
the mistletoe as they pass through the 
arch.'] 

FATHER MICHAEL 

I go now to fulfill your bounteous wish, 
Toward all beneath this roof. 



THE NAMELESS ONE 17 

FAUKNER 

Aye, Father, swell 
The lusty tide of all the Yule's high feast, 
With wishes that do have a golden ring! 



LADY FAUKNER 

Aye, and, dear Father Michael, haste ye back 
With feet that have quicksilver for their soles, 
To join our sober revelry by the hearth! 
[The priest bows low and leaves. Lady 

Faukner crosses to the fire and spreads 

her hands gleefully before it.~\ 



LADY FAUKNER 

A merry blaze, forsooth ! 

[Lord Faukner draws the couch nearer to 
it.'] 

FAUKNER 

Come, bask in it here ! 
[They seat themselves. Taking up the lute 
beside her, she softly thrums, bending to- 
ward the fire.] 



18 THE NAMELESS ONE 

LADY EAUKNER 

A little tune for sparks to dance by, so — 
With tiny, glittering shoon — Ha, see them 

frisk, 
And leap along the dark ! A frolic wench 
Is chased into the shadow by a swain, 
Who doth pursue, his little heart on fire; 
With what a burning ardor doth he buss 
Her ruddy cheek! They whirl and whirl 
away! 
[Laying the lute aside and leaning her head 
against his shoulder. ,] 
Nay, fires are for a dream — not for the dance ! 
[Both are silent awhile,, gazing into the 
flames, ,] 

FATJKNER 

There is no sight nor sound this holy eve, 
No merest wonted shred of circumstance, 
But thrills with deeper meaning or doth take 
A fair, new outline, as fresh fallen snow 
Will drape the wayside's commonest heap or 

hut, 
With towering splendor of a vision's grace ; 
And O, my Flower o' Life, if this be true, 
For all the humblesse of accustomed show, 



THE NAMELESS ONE 19 

With what transcendent ecstasy this hour 
Must charge the hope that nestles near thy 

heart, 
And rests upon my own ! Nativity — 
'Tis caroled, rung, emblazoned round the 

earth ; 
E'en simple cattle kneel within their stalls, 
The bees hum cheerly in their slumberous 

hives, 
The sheep move to unheard processional, 
With mystic sense of worship all around! 
And we two awe-struck souls draw near, O 

near, 
Unto that cradle of the whole wide world, 
With worship crowning that of other years, 
Led by the star that rises over us ! 

LADY FATJKNER 

So, dear My Lord, I feel but cannot say! 
I turn my rapt face upward to the light, 
And follow — seeking, worshiping with my 

gift- 
Mother of God — ah, she will understand! 

FATJKNER 

I do believe no lily of the stalk 
Cecilia held within her glistering hand, 



20 THE NAMELESS ONE 

Ere breathed so sweet, so fulgent white as 
thou! 

LADY FATJKNER 

And O I do believe no shining knight 
That ever jousted o'er the sunlit plain, 
Bore lance more bravely true — 

FATJKNER 

[Springs to his feet.~\ 

Nay, by God's love! 
Knighthood? To spare the weak, guard 

womanhood, 
Play frank and fair, fight with all fealty, 
And die all deaths ere trust it shall betray ! 
[He moves to the casement and flings it 
open.~] 

LADY FATJKNER 

Aye, only this is knightly, Love, and thou? 

When didst thou strike the frail, or woman- 
hood? 

When didst thou falter back from fealty? 

Is there a death would cow thee from a trust? 
[She rises, goes to him and takes his arm 
tenderly. ,] 



THE NAMELESS ONE 21 

O now, what solemn, far-fetched trick o' 

thought 
Doth trouble thee? A somewhat left undone 
Ere old Nurse Life had loosed thy swaddling 

bands? 
Whisky through the casement all such goblins 

go! 
[She slams to the casement and draws him 

merrily back to the fire.~\ 
Hast thou forgotten Motley Misrule's word? 
The Yule-log lighted with a last year's brand 
Will scare the evil spirits all away, 
And draw around our hearth a friendly troop 
O' forces favorable to our needs. 

[She seats herself beside him again; her head 

on his shoulder. ,] 

FATJKNER 

Ah, light-of -heart, thou canst not understand 
How, deep within, some souls, there lies a fault 
Must penance pay and fast and tell its beads, 
Ere all be shriven within their consciences. 

LADY FATJKNER 

Nay, I do understand — 'tis so with all — 
Why, even I, thou callest wonder-white — 



22 THE NAMELESS ONE 

FATTKNER 

[Recovering himself.] 
O thou — I pray thee, spare me such dark tale 
Of dire misdeed! Of stitches wrongly set 
In thy tapestry, and unrepaired. Ah, me! 
Crime o' the roses thou didst wantonly kill, 
By turning all the sunshine of thy face, 
Too long away ; the beads that ne'er were told, 
For following where the blossoms beckoned 

thee, 
With rosy fingers, through the chapel grille! 

[Re-enter Father Michael.] 
Nay, here is fit confessor now — 

FATHER MICHAEL 

[Approaching.] 

My Lord? 

FATJKNER 

[Rising and leaning by the fireplace.] 
Disburthen to the Reverend Father all 
Thy heinous guilt! 

FATHER MICHAEL 

[With mock solemnity and taking his place 
at the other end of the fire.'] 

Daughter, confess, confess! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 23 

LADY FAUKNER 

Faith and I will then, for 'tis nothing less 
Than sacrilege, that's unrepented of — 
My mother called it so, but in my heart, 
I hold it was no sin. 'Tis now ten years, 
This Christmas Eve, still unconvinced am I — 

FAUKNER 

[Play fully .~[ 
So, so ! unruly daughter of the Church, 
Rebellious, likewise, to a parent's law — 
Father, can such as these make faithful wife? 

FATHER MICHAEL 

Peace, peace, my son, for we would hear and 
judge. 

LADY FAUKNER 

Sooth, and I was no more than just a child. 
Left to my Yule-tide fancies in the storm, 
Of that fierce night, when all th' accustomed 

cheer 
Was palled by plague and tempest; through 

the wind, 
I heard the steady booming o' the waves, 



24 THE NAMELESS ONE 

Out in the darkness on the cliff ; I said — 
Soft to myself, for loneliness and fear — 
It is the tramp, tramp, tramp of horses' feet, 
The Three Kings ride this way to seek the 

Child! 
I pushed the casement for a little space ; 
The snow swirled by — a long, white, awful 

trail ; 
I said, It is the light of that high Star, 
That leads them ever onward through the 

night! 
But where, methought, are Mother and the 

Babe? 
Then stranger voices sounded, from below ; 
I crept a-down the stair — Mary most pure ! 
There, at the foot, full in the torches' flare, 
A woman stood — her white, unearthly face 
Bending above a child upon her arm; 
Its form was hid in folds of her long cloak, 
But, O, its wondering eyes and shining brow 
Gleamed out above the black, aye, straight at 

me! 
I ran along the hall, my mother's skirt 
I plucked at whispering, "Look, the Child, the 

Child, 
Within the Virgin's arms !" — Father, to me, 
It was the very truth. My mother gazed, 



THE NAMELESS ONE 25 

In horror, from my lifted, pointing hand, 
To where the woman stood; — sign o' the Cross 
She made, and weary penance was I set, 
To shrive me of my Yule-tide dreaming. 

FATJKNER 

Nay, 
Thou wert thyself a child! 

FATHER MICHAEL 

Ten years ago 
Thou saidst? 

LADY FATJKNER 

So long ago, dear Father, yet 
Each Christmas Eve it all comes back to me— 
Her wasted face, her praying, praying eyes — 
At dawn she died! 

FATHER MICHAEL 

Not there — within thy home? 

LADY FAUKNER 

No beggar could be turned from door at Yule, 
Nor in such blasting storm, and so the crew 
Of strolling mountebanks — 



26 THE NAMELESS ONE 



FATJKNER 



[Starting violently. ] 

Mountebanks? 



LADY FAUKNER 

[Starting,, too,, and imitating him.~\ 
Mountebanks, aye! 

Such panther-pounce would startle bravest 
heart ! 

FATHER MICHAEL 

[Smoothly.'] 
My Lord and I both started; by strange 

chance, 
I had but now been telling- him a tale — 
Fantastic happening to wandering friar — 
In which some strolling players bore a part. 
Thou spok'st but now of waves upon the cliff — 
And so, thy childhood's home was by the sea, 
Mid ballads o' the sail and briny air? 

LADY FATJKNER 

At JNTorf oik. 

FATHER MICHAEL 

[Looking meaningly at Lord Faukner.] 

Then at Norfolk 'twas she died, 



THE NAMELESS ONE 27 

Ten years ago to-night — or didst thou dream, 
The woman died? — thou little dreamer! 
[Fatjkner leans forward with fixed intent- 
ness.~] 

LADY FATJKNER 

Nay, 
All the sad was true! They buried her 
In a lonely, little grave upon the cliff. 
They always hushed me when I spoke of her, 
And called her something and the poor child, 

too, 
I could not understand except 'twas shame 
To talk of such. 

FATJKNER 

The child — a boy or girl? 
What age was it? — no babe upon her breast? 

LADY FATJKNER 

Nay, not a babe — it had long, auburn hair — 
Like to Your Lordship's, glinted by the light. 

FATHER MICHAEL 

[Quickly. ~] 
A boy, perchance? 



28 THE NAMELESS ONE 

LADY FAUKNER 

I never saw the child 
After those moments, when it looked at me, 
So strange and deep from out her hanging 

cloak ; 
The strollers went their mumming, gypsying 

way — 
So there's an end to all my Christmas tale ! 
[She rises and approaches Lord Faukner, 

playfully shaking a finger at him.~] 
And now, My Lord, it is thy turn — confess ! 
What drove thee to the casement? Aye, what 

wrong 
Hast thou to match my tale? Hear, Father, 

hear! 
[Enter Constance, approaching the priest. ,] 

CONSTANCE 

A friar below awaits Your Reverence, 
And begs a word. 

FATHER MICHAEL 

[Starting slightly and glancing at Faukner.] 
And if it please My Lord 
To bear me company and speak with him, 



THE NAMELESS ONE 29 

It may be matters of thy tenantry 
He comes to tell, and thou, perchance, would 
hear. 

FAUKNER 

[Kissing his lady's hand.'] 
A moment, Love, and I return. 

LADY FAUKNER 

Aye, so! 
For soon we sup — and then — Ah, then, the 
mask! 
[Exeunt Lord Faukner and the priest; 
Faukner bending his head intently as 
Father Michael talks in a low tone. 
Lady Faukner crosses to the virginal 
and plays a quaint little air.~\ 

CONSTANCE 

[Following.] 
Ah, dear My Lady, never such a mask 
Was given — e'en at the Court — so Misrule 

saith ! 
A forest all of thickly flowering trees, 
Birds in the branches, caroling clear and loud ; 
And from each tree a hamadryad steps, 



30 THE NAMELESS ONE 

Veiled in a mist o' green and silvery gauze, 
Floating like — 

LADY FAUKNER 

[Rising and laying one hand over Con- 
stance's mouth.'] 

Nay, I will not have thee tell! 
It shall burst o'er me in a glorious tide 
O' sheer surprise — that I may know the thrill 
Beats in a lightning tattoo down the spine, 
And starteth us a-goose-flesh with delight! 

CONSTANCE 

I know, I know, a sort of pain — 

LADY FAUKNER 

[Coming down, her arm about Constance.] 

But more 
A piercing pleasure! 

CONSTANCE 

Aye, just so, just so! 

LADY FAUKNER 

Same piercing pleasure — ah, thou naughty 
Con! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 31 

Thou hadst, but now, beneath the mistletoe, 
When Master Misrule — 

CONSTANCE 

Nay, now, 'tis not so! 
'Twas Agatha he caught ! 

LADY FATTKNER 

Then, by my faith, 
She wore thy purfled, cherry petticoat, 
And hath as trim a waist for clasping— Aye, 
And laughs as clear! — methought now, — only 

thou 
Couldst make of laughter such a silver bell ! 

CONSTANCE 

[Kissing her hand.~\ 
My Lady, e'en at gibing thou art kind ! 

LADY FAUKNER 

O Con, I tell thee what we now will do! — 
Throw me some twigs o' laurel on the fire, 
And read me omens there ! Thy Misrule saith, 
A wondrous power is thine, like any witch, 
To interpret omens. 



32 THE NAMELESS ONE 

CONSTANCE 

[Going to the hearth while Lady Faukner 
follows and seats herself with girlish 
eagerness. ] 

Aye, in very truth ! 
Laurel o' Yule-tide, thrown upon the flames — 
[She gathers laurel from among the candle- 
sticks into her lifted shirt and kneeling 
before the fire, throws on some sprigs, 
murmuring a sort of incantation :] 
Burn, laurel, burn ! 
Turn, Sibyl, turn! 
For portent and a sign, 
Deep in the fire now shine — 
[She breaks off suddenly, giving a startled 
look, over her shoulder, at Lady Fauk- 
ner.] 

lady faukner 
What seest thou, Con? 

CONSTANCE 

Nay, nothing! Nothing yet! 

LADY FAUKNER 

Thou lookst as thou hadst seen the very devil ! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 33 

[Constance gazes silently, steadfastly at 
the fire; then raises her hands to her face, 
as though to shut out something '.] 

In name of all the goblin host now, Con, 

Whatsit? 

CONSTANCE 

Nay, it is no thing at all! 
The laurel hath no power, or I forget — 
Or I have lost — 



LADY FAUKNER 

Certes, a pretty play — 
At first we stare — O wild, as we had seen 
The reddest imp in hell ; then, like the sphinx, 
So deep, mysterious, we gaze and gaze, 
Then, clap our hands to eyes — yet 'tis no thing, 
No thing at all ! but we have lost our art, 
Or laurel turns a lie — or Heaven knows what ! 
[Re-enter Lord Faukner,, coming down, 
followed by the priest. ,] 



FAUKNER 

And now to supper all — the boar's head waits ! 



34 THE NAMELESS ONE 

LADY FAUKNER 

[Rising.] 
Nay, not one step we stir till Constance here, 
Doth clear the mystery about this hearth! 



FAUKNER 

[Looking toward the priest.] 
A mystery? 

FATHER MICHAEL 

Here? 

CONSTANCE 

[Rising from her knees.] 

O sirs, my Lady dear 
Is angered that I cannot read the flames ! 
'Tis long time since old Mother Moll set forth 
How one might see strange omens in the log — 



FAUKNER 

[Lightly.] 
Some frolic of My Lady! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 35 

FATHER MICHAEL 

Witches' tale! 
[As Lady Faukner and Constance move 

up away from the fire, talking, arm in 

arm, Lord Faukner and the priest speak 

together, near the casement. ] 
Thou seest it was the very long-sought clue 
May lead thee to the child! An untoward 

chance, 
The friar should hap this very night to come 
And hear the tale from thee, well nigh as soon 
As it had fallen from thy Lady's lips! 

FAUKNER 

This night is fraught with strangeness and 

with fate ! 
I feel my soul moved on through all the cheer, 
The guiding hope and glory of this tide, 
To seek that other child — obscure, alone, 
Abandoned, drifting, drifting, God knows 

where, 
Or to what fate! 

LADY FAUKNER 

[Turning.'] 

O prithee, come, My Lord! 



36 THE NAMELESS ONE 

The boar's head must be grinning wide this 

while, 
To give us welcome ! 

FATJKNER 

[Going up.~\ 

Love, I come, I come! 
[Pages part the arras, music sounds, and 
Lord Faukner leads his lady across the 
hall and up the stairway. As they disap- 
pear, Constance approaches the priest 
earnestly.'] 

CONSTANCE 

Father, I read the flame — the power was 

mine! 
But — Oh, I would not shock my Lady's ear, 
Or grieve her tender, noble heart with such ! — 
'Twas shame I read there! Oh, some direful 

fate, 
To first-born of this house! and she with 

hope — 

[She weeps.] 

FATHER MICHAEL 

Nay, nay, my child! what trumpery is this, 
Of laurel twigs, Yule omens and the like? 



THE NAMELESS ONE 37 

That arch buffoon, young Misrule — faith, 'tis 

he 
Hath turned thy pretty head ! 

CONSTANCE 

'Twas Mother Moll. 
She told me when a house hath hope of heir, 
And faggots fall — O Father, as to shape — 

[Covering her eyes.~] 
Nay, I'll not name the thing ! 

FATHER MICHAEL 

[Taking down her hands. ,] 

Beshrew me now, 
But I would think on merry mask instead ! 
'Tis whispered Misrule will appear in guise 
The very grandest; wilt thou greet him then, 
With blubbered face and eyes all woe-begone? 
[Constance starts and dries her eyes and 
smooths her hair; the priest leads her a 
few steps up toward the arch.~\ 
Yule is for feasting — youth, for merry hearts 
And frisking heels ! 

[Exit Constance. The priest stands mus- 
ing a moment.] 

The night grows big with fate! 



38 THE NAMELESS ONE 

[He crosses to the hearth and gazes down 
into the fire.~\ 
What of that first-born? — drifting — God 
knows where! 

Curtain 



ACT II 

Scene I 

The courtyard of an inn at Norfolk; at left, 
stands the inn, its low, broad doors open, a 
settle on one side, and' above a huge gargoyle 
protruding in the shape of a griffin bearing a 
swing sign in its mouth; beyond the gar- 
goyle a small balcony runs along under the 
windows; at right, a high wall and nearer 
the center a linden tree with circular bench 
beneath; at rear, the high wall and iron 
gates, through which pines may be seen and 
stretch of sea beyond; by the gates, outside, 
is an elder tree; at rear left, is an alley be- 
tween the inn and the wall, leading off in 
direction of the stables. 

It is afternoon of the last day in April, four 
months having elapsed since the first act 

Master Locket is dozing on the settle. There 
is a rumble of wheels and a horn sounds 
clear; Locket starts up, rubbing his eyes; 

39 



40 THE NAMELESS ONE 

Mistress Locket, emerges from the inn, 
leaning on her staff and followed by 
Midge. 

locket 

[Shouting.] 
Snick-up, Snick-up!— curse ye and go hang! 
The wag that dubbed ye knew ye for a knave! 

[He goes toward the gates grumbling.] 
Never in sight when there's a need o' ye — 
A crooked, scurvy good-f or-nowt ! 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

[Poking Midge with her staff.'] 

Haste, haste, 
And find ye Snick-up and the other louts, 
Here's gentry at the gates! 

[She hobbles on half way after Locket. A 
voice calls softly:] 

SNICK-UP 

[From above.] 
Hist, Midge! Hi, Midge! 

[Looking up, Midge discovers Snick-up, 
grimacing, astride the gargoyle. Terri- 
fied, she wrings her hands, waves him back 



THE NAMELESS ONE 41 

and points toward the Lockets. Snick- 
up darts under cover of the griffin and 
Midge runs round the house, calling i\ 

MIDGE 

Snick-up! Gaff a! Hal! Ho, Gaff a! Hal! 

LOCKET 

[Backing and bowing before Lord and 
Lady Faukner and Constance,, who 
come forward from the coach, drawn up 
beyond the gates.~\ 
And 't please your worships, enter this poor 
inn! 

[Fiercely to Gaffa and Hal, who come 
running toward the gates ;] 
Sirrah, go to't ye laggards and make haste ! 

[Re-enter Midge, following Mistress 
Locket, who is curtseying before Lady 
Faukner and Constance, as they ap- 
proach the inn, while Lord Faukner is 
directing Locket and the servants by the 
gates. ,] 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

God dig ye den, my ladies ! Dig ye — 



42 THE NAMELESS ONE 

[Thrusting her staff at Midge to curtsey.] 

Den! 
[Both bob up and down before Lady Fauk- 
ner.] 

lady faukner 
Ah, but this heat — I stifle with the heat! 

CONSTANCE 

Dear Lady, let me loose thy cloak — now, so — 
Is it not better? 

[As Constance draws the cloak from My 
Lady's shoulders and throws it over her 
own arm, a jeweled aglet falls unseen. 
She glances about; Snick-up is peering 
down at them.] 

Dropped you anything? 
[Midge and Mistress Locket look vaguely 
about their feet.] 

mistress locket 
What hath My Lady lost? 

CONSTANCE 

Nay, nay, 'tis naught! 
Let us within — My Lady is clean fagged. 



THE NAMELESS ONE 43 

LADY FATJKNER 

Good Mistress, show us where to lay our heads. 
'Tis all we ask, and be it hard or soft ! 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

O, please, Your Ladyship, 'tis soft enow ! 
[The women enter the inn followed by 
Midge, who glances up at Snick-up. He 
peers over and puffs his cheeks at her 3 as 
she darts into the house. Servants come 
forward with luggage and enter the inn. 
Locket follows, obsequious, before Lord 
Fatjkner.] 

LOCKET 

An 't please My Lord, this way, this way! 
[A sound of clear, whistling bird-notes 
comes from the branches. Locket calls 
in its direction :] 

Snick-up ! 
Jack o' the Hump, and so — a pretty trick, 
Thou'lt smart for when the hour hath struck 
for knaves ! 

FATJKNER 

[Listening. 1 
What is it can fling such melody abroad? 



44 THE NAMELESS ONE 

LOCKET 

What is 't? What is 't? Your Lordship, that, 

I trow, 
None but the devil can tell ; — a crooked ape, 
With note o' bird ; God's life an' he can throw 
That note from any point he will, yet hang, 
Agrin with impish mirth, a mile away 
From where good Christians go to seek the 

sound. 
[Snick-up grins down at him and puts 

thumb to nose. Again the whistle trills 

and his lordship listens.] 

FAUKNER 

N'er heard I sweeter note! 

LOCKET 

From Jackanape's pipe! 
A dreaming, useless, misbegotten clout, 
Works when he will and when he will not, 

quits 
And peeks and perches, whistling here and 

there — 
God knows if he be near or leagues away! 
Mocking the birds in voice, the beast in — 



THE NAMELESS ONE 45 

FAUKNER 

[Turning impatiently. ~\ 

Hold! 
What is all this to me? Let us within! 

[They pass through the inn door. Snick- 
up swings down from the gargoyle and 
steps slyly,, peering along the ground.~\ 



SNICK-UP 

I saw thee flash and glance away, then snuff! 
Thy little light went out between the flags — 
Just here — ah, here! 

[Stooping, he picks up the aglet and holds it 
to the light. ,] 

Fie, Midge, thou art a mole! 
[Imitating derisively, ,] 
What hath My Lady lost? Nay, nay, 'tis 

naught! 
Nay, nay, 'tis something, something dazzling 
fine — 
[He pauses, listening. Voices are heard; 
he slips the aglet into his jerkin and runs 
off around the house as Constance en- 
ters, followed by Mistress Locket.] 



46 THE NAMELESS ONE 

CONSTANCE 

[Breathing long and gazing about.~\ 
How fragrant all the air from sea and pines! 
I pray it bring My Lady deep repose ! 

[She crosses to the seat under the linden,, 

Mistress Locket following. ,] 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

O that it will, sweet Mistress, that it will! 
'Tis like a draught o' rosemary, it so clears 
The weary head and gladdens all the heart; 
Thy Lady's time is near? 

CONSTANCE 

Midsummer days 
Will see a wee, fresh bud on mother-stalk, 
In My Lady's garden, and if all go well. 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

God grant, God grant! 

CONSTANCE 

'Twas of a sudden whim, 
She minded to come northward by the sea, 
And there to lay her precious burden down, 



THE NAMELESS ONE 47 

Within those halls where her small, wander- 
ing feet 

Pattered their way from babyhood to youth. 

She hath not been there since her mother died ; 

But well thou knowst how fixed such fancies 
be; — 

When ladies in her plight will so or so, 

Why, so 't must be, or things go all awry! 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

aye, beshrew me! ere my first was born, 

1 took a mind to go to county fair — 

Go and I did ! God sonties, all the night 
Was fair enow for me! and what to pay? 
My boy turned stroller — aye, away he ran, 
And tumbled, jigged and mummed out all his 

days, 
Now here, now there ; a thriftless ne'er-do-well, 
His father called him — fathers so can turn — 
But we that bear 'em never can let go; 
'Tis only Death can make us lose our grip! 
And then we turn the name that's been a 

prayer, 
Into a blessing — Mother o' God, that's all — 
Blessing and prayer and love — mayhap, our 

life, 
Is what we give, come saints or Judases ! 



48 THE NAMELESS ONE 

[She falls to weeping gently, wiping her 
eyes with a corner of her kerchief. Con- 
stance strokes the old hand lying on the 
staff.'] 

CONSTANCE 

Nay, 'tis the strollers twist our sorry world 
Into a happy grimace of sheer fun, 
We must have, Dame, to keep us young and 
kind! 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

His gentle eye, his sharp and merry quips — 
The dogs would turn from meat to lick his 
hands ! 

CONSTANCE 

And he is dead, good Mistress, thy sweet son? 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

O, aye, an' just one year, come Whitsuntide! 

CONSTANCE 

[Soothingly. ,] 
Good dame, good mother! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 49 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

O his heart was soft! 
Why e'en that hunchback limb o' mischief 

here, 
That "Snick-up," as they ©all him, out o' scorn, 
My son was good to! Aye, for nine long 

years, 
The two strolled on by river and by road, 
But far enow from here, ye may be sure, — 
My man was angered so to have a son 
Turn vagabond, that might 'a' kept an inn. 

CONSTANCE 

Some for the roving life — 'twas ever so! 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

But when he thought to die, for sight o' me, 
He came back here and in these very arms, 
Took up his rest — no strolling any more, 
But long, long rest in his grave upon the cliff. 

CONSTANCE 

And now his father gibes no more, I warrant ! 



50 THE NAMELESS ONE 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

No more at him ; he hath another butt — 
'Tis Snick-up now; a hump upon the back, 
Spreads right fair target for a choleric shaft, 
And makes fine shoulders for to hang the 

cloak 
Of all the scorn he used to dole the son. 

CONSTANCE 

[Patting her shoulder coaacingly.~] 
And yet, he keeps him here, remember that, 
Good Dame! 'Tis memory of his dear, lost 

son, 
Maketh your choleric man to hold the waif 
And house and foster him — is it not so ? 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

[With cackling derision.] 
O memory, O dear, O foster aught! 
Locket, the pounce-on-penny, grip-o'-gold ! 
O Lord, I never thought to laugh so long, 
Since my lumbago nipped me i' the back! 
'Tis foster Snick-up is 't? Aye, to work 
The soles from off the feet he will not shoe, 
The skin from off the palms he ne'er let feel 



THE NAMELESS ONE 51 

A touch o' one brass farthing since he came ; — 
Foster ■, ecod! For memory — O my back! 
[She catches her back and breath suddenly. 
Both women start at sound of hoofs as 
Father Michael rides into the court- 
yard and Snick-up comes running to- 
ward the gates from around the corner of 
the inn,, an old hat, with a plume made of 
turkey feathers, tucked under one arm.~\ 

CONSTANCE 

[Rising eagerly. ,] 
'Tis Father Michael! 

[As the priest dismounts hurriedly and turns 
from the horse,, Snick-up, instead of lead- 
ing the horse,, mounts, puts on the broad, 
plumed hat and rides proudly and slowly 
around and towards the stables. The 
priest turns suddenly to call an order after 
him, and, seeing the quaint figure, watches 
with a puzzled, pitying smile. ,] 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

[Curtseying. ,] 
He plays at being knight — his favorite game, 
When he can steal a mount, Your Reverence ! 



52 THE NAMELESS ONE 

FATHER MICHAEL 

[Calling after Snick-up.] 
Another horse, in haste — now, mark ye well! 

[To Constance, who makes obeisance.] 
My blessing, daughter! Seek His Lordship 

out, 
My time is brief — I must have word at once! 

CONSTANCE 

I fly, good Father! 

[She goes hastily into the house.] 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

And I limp, forsooth, 
To nip that dream o' knighthood in the bud! 
[She hobbles laboriously after Snick-up.] 
Gentry enow to-day — all's jump and jig! 
[The priest paces thoughtfully with trou- 
bled brow. He is soon interrupted, how- 
ever, by Constance, who has hastened 
back.] 

CONSTANCE 

His Lordship comes anon! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 53 

FATHER MICHAEL 

[Starting.'] 

Thy diligence 
I shall reward, my child; now look ye here! 

[He takes a small packet from his cloak. ] 
Thy Misrule begged me bear it with his love — 
He soon will follow it. 

CONSTANCE 

[Grasping it with blushing eagerness.] 
Father, thou art 
Our very truest friend. 

[She breaks off and turns hurriedly toward 
the inn.] 

His Lordship comes! 
[Lord Fatjkner comes forward as Con- 
stance vanishes through the door.] 

FATJKNER 

'Tis unexpected, Father! ~No bad news? 

FATHER MICHAEL 

Both grave and good! As we had planned, I 

pushed 
On to My Lady's home to wait thee there; 



54 THE NAMELESS ONE 

But tidings overtook me — state affairs, 
Meaning, perchance, the life or death of some ; 
Thou know'st how hard it fares, these troub- 
lous times, 
With those o' the faith — 



FATJKNER 

O Father, hard indeed! 

FATHER MICHAEL 

[Speaking low and hurriedly. ] 
With hottest speed, I must retrace my steps — 
'Tis life or death, I say again, to some! 
But word or two with thee: My friar hath 

found 
The child doth live — is in this neighborhood — 

FAUKNER 

[With a passionate gesture.] 
Nay, Father, nay ! I hope not any more — 
At Yule-tide thou hadst hope and still the 

months 
Have dragged themselves away, and every 

clue 
Turned futile to thy plodding, slow-foot friar. 



THE NAMELESS ONE 55 

FATHER MICHAEL 

Truth he was baffled and good reason for 't ! 
'Tis learned the strollers, out o' pity, kept 
Their charge — since kinsfolk turned it off in 
scorn — 

FATJKNER 

[Bitterly, pacing to and fro.~\ 
Scorn, ever scorn, its only heritage ! 

FATHER MICHAEL 

And then, for some strange reason, off they 

go- 
Though natives o' this shire — and wander on, 
For years, in distant parts ; but by strange hap, 
My slow-foot plodder, as thy bitterness gibes, 
Hath learned their leader, wellnigh dead with 

want, 
Strayed back to some town near us in the 

north, 
And brought the lad — 

FATJKNER 

[Pausing with a violent start near the inn 
door.~] 

A lad — thou sayest, lad? 



56 THE NAMELESS ONE 

FATHER MICHAEL 

The stroller died and left him at some town 
Near to My Lady's home, along the cliffs ; 
And in short space he shall be found — or dead, 
Or living — this we cannot tell thee yet. 
I grieve to tear away so short, my son, 
But matters o' the Church command me to it, 
With utmost, urgent haste; meantime, my 

friar 
Is seeking — Courage, all is narrowing in. 
[Snick-up enters,, unnoticed, leading a 

horse. ~\ 

FAUKNER 

[Passing one hand over his brow in dazed 
fashion.'] 
The first-born and a lad and very near! 

SNICK-UP 

He is here, an't please you, gentles ! 

[Both men start and, looking around, see 
that Snick-up has brought the horse.] 

FATHER MICHAEL 

[To Lord Faukner.] 

Fare thee well! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 57 

[With a gesture, Fatjkner goes in at the 
door as Locket comes hurriedly around 
the corner of the inn.~\ 



LOCKET 

[Moving toward the horse. ,] 
Have ye been served, My Lord and Reverend 
Sir? 
[He fumbles about the saddle, as the priest 
moves to mount, ,] 
Ha! looseness o' the girth! 

[Turning on Snick-up.] 

Fine hostler thou! 
Hanging around for naught but stirrup -fee! 

[As the priest mounts. ,] 
Thou bastard ! 

[The priest turns sharply in his saddle, 
with startled horror.~] 



FATHER MICHAEL 

Bastard, thou? 
[Recovering himself, and with a gesture as 
of dismissing some hateful thing :] 

Perish the thought! 



58 THE NAMELESS ONE 

[He rides hastily through the gates, tossing 
a coin and calling back:] 
For the lad ! 

[Locket grovels greedily for it, but Snick- 
up is too quick and snatches the coin, 
dropping it into his pocket. At the same 
time, he reaches forward and clutches the 
kneeling Locket by the neck of his coat 
and shakes him violently.] 



SNICK-UP 

[Through ground teeth.] 

That from the bastard — so and so! 

[He flings him off and Locket being too 

breathless to speak, the boy continues in 

fury.] 

Call me all things thou wilt — hump-shouldered 

ape, 
Snick-up, forsooth, a fiend o' the lowest hell — 
I shrug my hump at ye and go my way — 
'Tis all to me, to me, who care not that ! 

[Snapping his fingers in Locket's lifted 
face.] 
But, when ye sneer the one accursed word, 
Thou touchest her that bore me and was 
damned 



THE NAMELESS ONE 59 

To wander down the same dark road o' 

shame — 
No mercy for a mile-stone — no, not one — 
Save only that which thine own son bestowed! 
[Locket has risen to his feet, slowly and 

with violent trembling. He speaks cring- 

ingly.] 

LOCKET 

Maynap I weni too far to touch thy shame ; 
But I was angered at thy careless ways, 
Endangering gentry's lives — 

SNICK-UP 

The girth was right — 
It was the stirrup-fee thou fingered for! 

LOCKET 

Aye, and the stirrup-fee should go to him 
That gives thee meat and drink, clothes to thy 

back. 
[Snick-up turns his tattered shoes and 

jerkin up in comic derision.] 
Good Snick-up, hear ye reason now! God 

wot, 
It can go hard with thee for this, an I so will 



60 THE NAMELESS ONE 

To blab on't — thou, a prentice, to assault 

Thy lawful master ! but ye give me up 

The coin, was flung thee by mistake — why, 

then, 
All's as before ! Come, Snick-up, be ye wise ! 
[He holds out his hand for the money. 
Snick-up throws it at him and he stoops 
for it with the look of a miser's lust.] 

snick-up 

[Watching in scorn.] 
Have it and welcome — 'tis no good to me! 
Where I live, it can buy no single thing, 
For all is priceless. 

LOCKET 

[Peering at the other suspiciously.] 

Thank ye, Snick-up, thanks! 

[He moves toward the inn muttering and 

casting furtive looks at Snick-up, who 

has flung himself on the bench under the 

linden.] 

'Tis mad he is — Ecod, no use for gold ! 

Where thinks he that he lives ? And with that 

gift, 
Straight from Beelzebub, to make birds sing, 



THE NAMELESS ONE 61 

And he a mile away ; aye, dangerous, too, 
With devil's temper, and the devil's grip ! 
[He fingers his neck reminiscently and 

shakes his head with menace toward 

Snick-up, who is lounging against the 

tree, whistling very softly. ,] 
He and his witches' pipe must pack from 

here, 
Or mischief will be in the place, that's sure ! 
[He goes through the inn door as Midge 

comes with an air of eager mystery around 

the corner of the house, something hidden 

under her apron.'] 



MIDGE 

[Approaching Snick-up.] 
Snick-up, here's a jack o' good, brown ale, 
I snatched when Cook turned from her meal, 

to cuff 
The turnspit, for he let the capons burn — 
OWj, OWj, she cuffed him 

[Imitating the cook.] 

and she'll lose her ale! 
[She hands him the mug and sits beside 
him.] 



62 THE NAMELESS ONE 

SNICK-UP 

Her warty, red nose will no redder grow, 
Over the brink o' this ! 

[He quaffs it at a draught and sets the mug 
down between them.'] 

Good little Midge! 
Are all at supper now? 

MIDGE 

Aye, everyone! 

snick-up 

Then I will tell a secret an' thou swear — 
Crossing thy heart, thou ne'er wilt breathe 
one word? 

MIDGE 

Crossing my heart a million times, I swear! 

SNICK-UP 

A broken vow is damned, Midge, thou dost 
know? 

MIDGE 

[Nodding solemnly. ] 
I know! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 63 

SNICK-UP 

And should they drag thee to the stake, 
Thou wilt not speak one single, littlest word? 

MIDGE 

Nay, an' they put me in a cage with rats, 

I'd hold my mouth and say I had gone dumb ! 

SNICK-UP 

[Drawing the aglet from his breast and 
dangling it before her astonished eyes.'] 
What thinkest thou o' that? 

MIDGE 

[In awed; hushed tone.] 

Snick-up, a star! 

SNICK-UP 

A fallen star — I found it in the flags — 
Just here — 

[He moves off and points with his toe to 
the very spot.] 

It is a jeweled aglet — see — 
[He goes toward her and holds it once more 
before her eyes.] 



64 THE NAMELESS ONE 

My Lady dropped when she was at the door; 
None saw but me, up on the griffin there, 
Grinning at Grip-the-purse, to hear him 

bawl, 
And swear and I just over his dull pate! 

MIDGE 

He'll kill thee some day an thou tempt him 
so! 



SNICK-UP 

Nay, I've no purse to seize on and I work! 
[He fingers the aglet, holding it this way 
and that; then glancing about in fear lest 
some one may be overlooking from the 
inn } he thrusts the jewel into his jerkin. 
Bending over Midge with one knee on the 
bench, he speaks with low; quick eager- 
ness.'] 
Listen, now, Midge! I heard Dame Locket 

say, 
The Lady must stay quiet here and rest 
Another day, ere she may venture on, 
To last stage o' the journey; Our good dame 
Said likewise that My Lady had a mind 
To spend the morning in our garden-close, 



THE NAMELESS ONE 65 

Where she may smell the flowers, whiff o' the 

sea, 
And dream of her near home. Now, 'tis my 

plan, 
When she is left a moment by herself, 
To steal in softly to her and to kneel, 

[With an odd grace } he acts out his plan.'] 
Just as a knight would and to hold her out 
This rare, lost jewel, saying — Lady dear, 
Thine aglet J tis mine honor to restore! 
She, being gently born, will welcome me — 
For that I do her service — smile on me, 
And, mayhap, can forget I wear a hump. 
[Rising from his knees and hiding the aglet 

again.] 
And Midge, O Midge, if she but catch a whim, 
To have me in her service, take me hence, 
Where I can be among the nobly born, 
And serve as knights may serve — O brave and 

true, 
To some liege lady ! 

[Pacing restlessly with bent head.] 
I stay on and on, 
For just the memory o' my one friend; 
And for his sake, I would work out the term, 
O' my apprenticeship to his mean sire, 
And do my utmost for the poor old dam, 



66 THE NAMELESS ONE 

That loved him and gave shelter when he died ; 
But could I gain the favor o' My Lord, 
And that sweet lady, whose great, searching 

eyes 
Haunt me, as I had seen them long ago — 
[He pauses with a far-away look of remem- 
bering.'} 
Aye, and the red, red, mouth, so tender-sweet, 
And all so pitying — 'twas pitying then, 
Somewhere within my memory — 

[He breaks off with a little, passionate 
gesture.] 

O 'tis a dream, 
One o' my many dreams! 

[He sits cross-legged on the ground. Lights 
have appeared in the windows of the inn 
and through the open door a long trail of 
firelight falls upon him there.] 

MIDGE 

Mayhap she listened in some noble's hall, 
Those days thou used to stroll and pipe and 

tell ' 
Thy ballads everywhere ; — O, Snick-up, tell 
The ballad o' the lady and the knight — - 
Tis best of all! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 67 

SNICK-UP 

[Starting to his feet.] 
Ah, how I see it now — 
My dear old Truepenny moves down the hall, 
I after him — lights, ladies on all sides — 
I shake a shower o' bird-notes — 

[He utters a brief warbling. ] 

laughter, cries 
And clapping o' white hands; then he steps 

forth — 
No sound now any more but just his voice: 
[Now in shadow and now in the trail of 
light,, he recites; Midge leans forward,, fol- 
lowing his every motion.] 
Her gown was green as blades o' grass, 

And silver was her snood; 
Now never any comelier lass, 
In hall or castle stood. 

"O come ye up," the Earl cried loud, 

"And sit ye by my side!" 
"I'd liefer wrap me in my shroud, 

Than be an old man's bride!" 

They put her in a tower high, 
With many a guard around; 



68 THE NAMELESS ONE 

"OI would liefer far to die 
And lay me in the ground! 

"OI would liefer die this night, 
Than wed the Earl so old; 

His eye is dim; his beard is white; 
His withered hand is cold!" 

Now, what is that, beyond the wall, 

And surging in the gate ? 
'Tis spears a-shining thick and tall, 

That will not rest nor wait! 

O what is it that waves so white, 

Above the highest head? 
O 'tis the plume o' bravest knight, 

That ere to foray led! 

The tower-doors, they break like shell- 
O strong the knight and bold! 

Now weep no more, my bonnie Bell, 
Thou shalt wed no earl so old! 

A-down the tower stair they leapt, 
And through the hall they fled; 

Across a corpse she lightly stept, — 
It was the old earl dead! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 69 

They get to horse and swift they ride, 

And glad and glad is she, 
To be his lovesome, gay, young bride 

Within his far countrie! 



MIDGE 

[Clapping her hands.] 
Ah, but 'twas grand! 

SNICK-UP 

[Bowing to left and right.] 

And so — he bows him off — 
I catch the coin in cap and then away, 
Away from throngs I ever hated so, 
Away from catch-penny tricks — out once 

again 
Into the greenwood! there to roam and sleep, 
My good, good friend and all the strolling 

crew; — 
How he did pity me the night she died, 
And after, when my kinsfolk spurned me 

forth! 

MIDGE 

Why did they spurn thee, Snick-up? 



70 THE NAMELESS ONE 

SNICK-UP 

[Uneasily.'] 

O a hump 
Is nowhere welcome — dear old Truepenny 

knew — 
And so he gave the smock o' dreams to me 
The day he strolled away to Heaven; — he 

knew 
A dream's the only thing to hide a hump, 
And — any other ills o' life ! 
The smock, he said, a great magician wove 
And cast a spell on ; now whoever wears, 
Unto this day can call up what he will, 
To feed his fancy on. 

MIDGE 

O take it out, 
And let us dream again about the knight, 
And all the other wonders thou hast seen ! 
[Snick-up, lying on his stomach; reaches 
under the bench into a hidden recess 
among the roots of the tree.] 

snick-up 
So here ye are, my good, old smock o' dreams ! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 71 

[He draws forth a tattered garment of deep 
orange color and shakes it out as he seats 
himself beside Midge.] 



midge 



[Stroking it.] 
Good smock o' dreams! 



SNICK-UP 

Come under Minikin! 
[He wraps the smock around her shoulders 

and his own. 
The light touches the rich color of it as the 
boy and girl lean against the dark trunk 
of the tree. A crescent moon has risen 
over the pines. Snick-up speaks dream- 

%•] 
I see thee as a lady in a bower, 

And thou art fairer than the fairest rose 

That hangs along the trellis overhead; 

Thy shoon are silver, and thy shining hair 

Curls like the tendrils of a running vine 

And falls in golden shower, down to the 

ground ; 



72 THE NAMELESS ONE 

Three aglets hang upon thy breast, more 

bright 
Than all the rays of this here in the moon — 
[He holds My Lady's jewel forth to the 

light. ] 
Thy hands are white as milk — 

MIDGE 

With ne'er a wart? 

SNICK-UP 

Thy hands are silken smooth and twine sweet 

flowers, 
For Maytime festival — 

MIDGE 

And wear I rings? 

SNICK-UP 

Upon thy finger gleams a strange, green 

stone, 
Slips like a lizard's back, so — in and out, 
Among the gillyvors. 

[He weaves, with the aglet glancing in one 
hand.~\ 

Thy favorite bird 



THE NAMELESS ONE 73 

Preens on thy shoulder, flitters purple wing, 
Spreads breast o' flame and coos thee softly 
so — 
[He whistles a very low, tender bwd-note.~] 

MIDGE 

O good, good Smock o' Dreams, now more and 
more! 

SNICK-UP 

A page bears in to thee a sparkling dish, 
Heaped high with sweet meats. 

MIDGE 

And with sillibubs? 

SNICK-UP 

[Casting his share of the smock around her 

and springing up.~\ 
Nay, Midge, an' thou wouldst have a hand in 

this, 
Dream as I tell thee and make me show forth ! 
Say now, I see thee standing straight and 

tall — 

MIDGE 

O now I see thee standing straight and tall — 



74 THE NAMELESS ONE 

SNICK-UP 

And shining bright thou art,, from brow to 
feet — 

MIDGE 

And shining bright thou art, from brow to 
feet — 

SNICK-UP 

The King, the very highest, leads thee on — 

MIDGE 

The King, the very highest, leads thee on — 
[Mistress Locket's voice sounds from 
within. ,] 

mistress locket 

Midge — marry, where art thou? — Midge! 
Midge! 

[She rises quickly, throwing aside the 
smock. ,] 

snick-up 

From the good Smock o' Dreams, now, little 

friend, 
I'll wake a hundred nightingales for thee 



THE NAMELESS ONE 75 

To fall asleep by and to keep a-dreaming! 
Where shall they sing from?— choose ye now 
their home! 

MIDGE 

{Looking about; then pointing to a tree 
outside the wall, by the gate.] 
O make their voices come from there — 'tis tall- 
est! 

snick-up 

Nay, 'tis an elder— never bird sings there, 
Since Judas hanged him on an elder-tree! 

MIDGE 

[In awed voice.] 
The priest says Judas was the worst o' wights ! 

SNICK-UP 

Hanging's the worst o' deaths— the very worst. 

MIDGE 

Then from this linden tree? 

SNICK-UP 

Aye, 'tis our friend — 
Most loving of all trees— each leaf a heart! 
[Mistress Locket peers from the inn door.] 



76 THE NAMELESS ONE 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

Midge ! 

MIDGE 

[Running toward her.~\ 
Here I am! 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

By saints, 'tis time! 

[Both go in, closing the doors after them. 

Snick-up seats himself again and wraps 
his tattered legacy about him; leaning 
his head back against the trunk of the tree, 
he sends forth gush upon gush of wild, 
fluting melody. The lights go out at the 
windows; in the darkness and melody, the 
scene shifts and it is morning in the gar- 
den-close.'] 



Scene II 

The garden-close is bounded on right and left 
by a high "wall, beyond which blossomy tree- 
tops are misting. At rear, a side view of the 
inn shows an entrance and steps, from which 
the broad central path leads down, bordered 
by gay flower-beds; from the right of this 
path, near the inn, a short walk ends at a 
gate in the wall; another walk, farther down, 
leads to a small arbor, thickly hung with 
grape-vines. From the left of the main path, 
still another narrow walk leads, between low 
hedges of yew to a wicket. On this side of 
the garden (down) a rustic seat lounges 
near an old fountain, overgrown with mosses 
and playing a slender, trickling stream. 
The water softly plashes. 

Mistress Locket hobbles from the inn and 
down the main path, followed by Con- 
stance., who carries bright, silken cush- 
ions. 

77 



78 THE NAMELESS ONE 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

This way we'll find a nook will please right 

well 
My Lady's whimsy now, I warrant ye ! 
Posies and sunlight — quiet as a shrine! 

CONSTANCE 

Sooth, 'tis the very spot! 

[She arranges cushions on the rustic seat 
and for her lady's feet.~\ 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

[Lending a hand.~\ 

So — smooth and soft, 
And she so near her time! 

CONSTANCE 

Aye, near her time, 
And O, I cannot rout the shadowy dread, 
That flitters like a bat's wing o'er my path, 
Now here, now there ! Good Father Michael's 

word 
Weighs not a feather, cozen how he may, 
With bits o' flattery and soft Pooh, pooh! 
And Nurses' tale and Misrule turns thy head; 



THE NAMELESS ONE 79 

An omen is an omen for all that — 
Mauger a thousand priests ! 

[She shakes and punches the pillows vigor- 
ously.] 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

Aye, omens hold! 
Many's the one hath come out true for me. 

CONSTANCE 

Yule-omen surer is than all the rest ! 
Mark ye, Dame Locket: 

[She draws her down beside her on the 

seat.~\ 

'Twas last Christmas eve, 
I read strange fate for first-born o' that house ! 
This very day, at dawn, a swallow flew 
Straight through the casement, lighting near 

her bed — 
There's grief in that for some one close to 

her — 
I dare not think on't ! 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

[Nudging her coaocingly.~\ 

Odds pittikins, my child! 
These omens sometimes fail, or oftener we — 



80 THE NAMELESS ONE 

We fail to read 'em right — all's well, all's well ! 
Slept she in comfort through the night? 

CONSTANCE 

Oh, aye! 
Such nightingales to lull her off to sleep — 
'Twas gush on gush o' sweetness loosed from 
Heaven! 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

Nay, 'twas the hunchback, Snick-up! Him 

my son 
Brought here a year agone — ye mind my tale? 
He whistles like the birds. 

CONSTANCE 

[Incredulous, ,] 

Nay, it was birds ! 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

Nay, it was Snick-up hath a gift like that ! 

CONSTANCE 

[Excitedly. ~\ 
Thou sayest he is a hunchback? By all saints, 
My Lady must not catch a sight of him — 



THE NAMELESS ONE 81 

She ne'er could bide them! — in her present 

state, 
'T would harm her sure — 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

Nay, Mistress, thou art scared 
Of all things under Heaven, now, with thy 

signs ! 
But, have no fear — each lad about the place 
And every wench must off to Morris dance 
Around the May-pole; Locket's mad enow, — 
The sweating sickness is no worse to him, 
Than granting two hours' frolic in the year. 

CONSTANCE 

[With a happy start. .] 
Aye, so 'tis May Day — I had clean forgot ! 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

[Rising.'] 
So — fetch My Lady to the pleasaunce here, 
And make ye merry with her and forget 
All but the happy signs. 

[She hobbles bach toward the inn, Con- 
stance following and gathering a posy 
by the way.] 



82 THE NAMELESS ONE 

CONSTANCE 

These flowers I'll twine 
Into a basket for her! 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

Good, aye, good! 

CONSTANCE 

Some lady-smocks to match her own pale 
blush! 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

And cuckoo flowers! 

CONSTANCE 

Lent lilies — like her hair! 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

The marigolds will give her time o' day! 

CONSTANCE 

And lavender, my love ! 
[They go in. 

Midge, Gaffa and Hal come running, 
hand-in-hand, by path at left. Hal is 



THE NAMELESS ONE 83 

first, in the garb of Robin Hood; next, 
Midge as Maid Marian; then Gaffa as 
Friar Tuck. Other lads and maids rush 
by them and through the gate (at right) 
where Snick-up has just entered. He 
stands aside and they call to him in pass- 
ing.'] 

ONE 

Come on! 



ANOTHER 

Ye'll miss it! 

ANOTHER 

The May-pole's high as Heaven! 

[Snick-up has strolled to the main path and 
Midge, Gaffa and Hal encircle him; 
with hands clasped, they dance around, 
then break the ring.] 

MIDGE 

[Curtseying.] 

Maid Marian, please ye! 
[Snick-up sweeps a low bow with his old 
turkey-plumed hat.] 



84 THE NAMELESS ONE 

SNICK-UP 
Good den to ye, fair Mistress! 

HAL 

[Ducking and 'pulling his forelock.] 

Robin Hood! 

SNICK-UP 

[Knocking Robin's cap off.'] 
Caps off to gentry, or I'll have ye jailed! 
[Hal reaches for his hat and the worthy 
friar plays leap-frog over his back; Hal 
rises and lands the friar a good-natured 
blow which the friar is about to return 
lustily 3 when Snick-up pulls him off by 
the cowl.] 
Paw vobiscum and go tell thy beads! 
Thou scurvy friar! 

[Hal rushes to the gate and Gaffa after 
him.] 

HAL 

The Morris! 

GAFFA 

Hurry! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 85 

MIDGE 

{Loitering by Snick-up.] 

Come, 
And dance around the pole ! — 

snick-up 

[Bitterly.'] 

I dance? — O fine! 
And be the ass that drags the car along, 
While wags and wenches hoot at me — O fine! 

MIDGE 

[Wistfully.] 
Nay, that they would not! there will be much 
fun! 

snick-up 

Have I not told thee of a better way, 
That I shall pass the morning, silly Midge? 
[He picks a cowslip and sticks it in her hair, 
chucking her under the chin,] 
So — Queen o' the May ! 



86 THE NAMELESS ONE 



MIDGE 



[ W onderingly .~] 
And wilt thou dare it — true? 



SNICK-UP 

Aye, that I will ! My Lady comes here soon — 
See ! there she will sit. 

[He points to the rustic seat.] 

And I wait yonder — there — 
Hid i' the vines — 

\_He points to the arbor.'] 

The rest will follow soon! 
A Morris dance? — to the devil! 
[Snaps his fingers.] 

Not for me! — 
I've other feats to dare! — Sh! haste thee, 

Midge, 
My Lord and Lady come — 

[Midge runs off through the gate.] 

So here I go! 
[He glides into hiding among the grape- 
vines as Lord and Lady Fatjkner move 
down the main path to the rustic seat. 
She wears a long, sweeping robe, which 
envelops her form; on her head is a little 



THE NAMELESS ONE 87 

lace cap. She bends here and there to 
smell of a blossom on the taller shrubs, ,] 

LADY FATJKNER 

How sweet the world is, Edward! And so 

near 
My childhood's home! 

FATJKNER 

[Placing his arm about her.~\ 

But one day's journey more, 
And wish comes true ; thy little feet may walk 
Through all their girlhood ways ; thy presence 

reach, 
Like sunlight, into every ivied wall ; 
And all the insect world in hiding there, 
Will then burst forth and fly or creep or 

whirr, 
Feeling new life in warmth and shine of thee ! 
[He leads her to the seat and places cush- 
ions at her feet.~\ 
Now, rest thee here, my life, and keep thee 

fresh, 
To fare forth on the morrow! 

[He sits beside her. Snick-up's face peers 
through the vines. ,] 



88 THE NAMELESS ONE 

LADY FATJKNER 

Ah, dear Love! 
How all the blossoming daintiness around 
Sets me to dreaming of wee, folded palms 
All rosy-fine; and smallest, pearly feet, 
Mottled with pink, where kisses warm have 

crushed, 
Like browsing bees, upon their loveliness; 
And every little bright-winged butterfly, 
Twinkling his way above these blooming paths, 
Doth seem th' elusive smile, that soon will flit 
Across a little, slumbering, upturned face — 
Flower o' both our lives, upon my breast ! 



FATJKNER 

[With intense feeling.~\ 
Flower o' both our lives — the very flower ! 



LADY FATJKNER 

[Turning to look earnestly at him.~\ 
But, ah, how solemn thou dost echo it ! 
How grave thou art of late ! — so restless, too- 
I have a growing presage of some care 
That haunts thy step — 



THE NAMELESS ONE 89 

FATJKNER 

[Hastily. ~\ 
Nay, Love, we thoughtful grow, 
Fronting such blessedness! 

LADY FAUKNER 

In truth, we must! 
Why 'tis a consecration unto all, 
This giving an immortal soul a life; 
Oh, to endow with life — think, think, my Love! 
And having so endowed, what sacred charge 
To guard that life forever with our own. 

[Snick-up parts the vines and reaches a 

little from the arbor. ~] 
And, O my Husband, canst thou understand, 
How in the world are children of mere 

chance — 
Unwelcome — nay, uncared-for — 

FATJKNER 

[Bowing his face upon his hands. ,] 

O my heart ! 
[Snick-up, in his intentness, has stepped 
quite away from the arbor and leans, list- 
ening, listening.] 



90 THE NAMELESS ONE 

LADY FAUKNER 

When I behold what hopes we foster here, 

The lavish welcome and the tender scope 

Of all our plans, the future pride and pledge — 

FAUKNER 

[With bent head and hands clenched before 
him.] 
Then think upon that other nameless one, 
The child, thou sayest, of chance — all life a 

taunt, 
Lashing" him back upon a hopeless shame! 
[There is the pent-up yearning and misery 
of years in the young, listening face.] 

LADY FAUKNER 

[Drawing her lord back by the shoulder.] 
Nay, we'll not think upon it any more ! 
That brooding look upon thy brow comes back, 
At mention of such sadness. 

[Here the boy turns and, brushing his sleeve 
across his eyes, steps noiselessly back to 
the arbor.] 

Dost thou know 
'Tis May Day? And here's one would dearly 
love 



THE NAMELESS ONE 91 

To have a gallant crown her for his queen, 
And bend the knee in homage — aye, and 

pay 
Some tribute unto beauty — if 'tis here? 
[Looking at him archly. ,] 



FATJKNER 

[Taking her face in his hands with unspeak- 
able tenderness. ] 
Here in the tender oval of thy face, 
Here have I found the springtime of my life, 
The blossoming of my soul! 

[He slips to his knees, kissing her hands 
reverently.] 



LADY FATJKNER 

[Passionately. ] 

Nay, nay, my lips ! 
[She lifts his face and bending, kisses him 
upon the mouth.] 
So thou dost crown me royal with thy love ! 
Thine every word a deathless flower to wreathe 
My proudest wifehood! Ah, but when our 
son — 



92 THE NAMELESS ONE 

FAUKNER 

[Starting.] 
Our son! 

[Then, to hide his start, he rises and sits be- 
side her.~\ 

LADY FAUKNER 

[Drooping her head away from him with 
happy shyness and fingering her laces. ,] 
The first-born aye should be a son! 
[Lord Faukner springs to his feet. 
Snick-up, who has been peering from the 
arbor, his wistful face gleaming white 
against the dark leafage, now draws 
quickly back into hiding, just as Locket 
enters by the gate.~] 

FAUKNER 

[Pacing.] 
In very truth, a son! 

LADY FAUKNER 

Now, there's the frown. 
The restlessness — thou fearest some mishap! 



THE NAMELESS ONE gs 

LOCKET 

[Approaching a little way down the main 
path.~\ 
My Lord, the falcons are in readiness, 
If 't please Your Worship ! 

LADY FAUKNEE 

Aye, go take thy sport, 
And bring me back a happy, careless brow! 

FATJKNER 

[Kissing her hand.~\ 
I will send Constance to attend thee here. 

LADY FATJKNER 

[Calling after him as he moves down the 
main path; preceded by Locket.] 
And bid her bring my favorite book o' bal- 
lads. 

[To herself, sighing. ,] 

Mayhap 'twill move the dial swifter round ! 

[Snick-up watches them, parting the vines. 

As Fatjkner disappears through the inn 

door and Locket through the gate, he 

steps cautiously out; glancing around, he 



94 THE NAMELESS ONE 

draws the aglet forth and flashes it up in 
the sun. Then, he moves forward a little 
and across. As he does so, Lady Fauk- 
ner starts violently and half rises. See- 
ing what it is, she utters a piercing scream, 
just as he goes down upon one knee, hold- 
ing out the aglet. ,] 

SNICK-UP 

My Lady, here! 

[She turns from him, covering her face with 
her hands; and uttering another scream, 
falls back upon the seat in a dead faint. 
Snick-up rises in dazed horror, speaking 
low.~\ 

O God! That look! Help, help! 

[H e dashes up the main path as Locket and 
a falconer rush through gate at right. At 
the turn of the path leading to the gate, 
Snick-up trips and falls; Locket and 
the other men spring on him just as 
Faukner and Constance hurry from 
the inn and Mistress Locket hobbles 
through the wicket. ~\ 

LOCKET 

Ha, ye devil! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 95 

FAUKNER 
My God ! what hath he done ? 

LOCKET 

Thief! see the jewel he hath snatched! 
[He holds out the aglet.] 

CONSTANCE 

[Taking it.] 

'Tis hers! 
The aglet— look, My Lord! 

FAUKNER 

[Hurrying down.'] 

Heed naught but her! 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

What means it, Snick-up? 

LOCKET 

Why, it means but this, 
We bear our singing-bird here to his cage ! 



96 THE NAMELESS ONE 

CONSTANCE 

[Falling on her knees beside Lady Fattk- 

NER.] 

The swallow! O My Lady — she is dead! 

FAUKNER 

Nay, hold thy peace ! Locket, a leech, a leech ! 
Ride — some one, fierce as hell! 

LOCKET 

[To falconer.} 

Get ye to horse! 
[As the man runs toward the gate. Snick- 
up wrenches free from Locket, dashes 
down to Fatjkner and kneels. ,] 

LOCKET 

Stop, murderer! 

SNICK-UP 

[To his lordship.'] 

Hear me — in mercy — hear! 
[Locket grips him with one hand and smites 
him across the mouth.] 

FAUKNER 

That such a one was ever born as thou ! 
Curtain 



ACT III 

Scene I 

Two weeks are supposed to have elapsed since 
Act II. 

A cell in an old prison about a mile from the 
inn; a long shaft of afternoon light falls 
through the bars of a high opening in the 
stone walls (at right), and shines upon 
Snick-up as he lies on a pallet of straw; a 
low wooden bench stands at left; a door at 
rear. Snick-up raises himself on one elbow 
and gazes toward the light. 

SNICK-UP 

O light, O light, I have so dearly loved! 
Golden and warm to bask in by the road; 
Shimmering fine to dream by 'neath a bough; 
Beckoning bright to follow — follow far, 
Over tumbling, restless, reaching sea! 
When by the dawn tomorrow, thou dost glint 
Each hill-top, spire and gaping, lifted face — - 

97 



98 THE NAMELESS ONE 

As my poor hulk hangs black against the 
rose — 

What pathway wilt thou lead my stroller soul? 
\_A sound of grating bolts; the door at rear 
opens inward, disclosing a flight of stone 
steps; a turnkey draws the door to behind 
Mistress Locket, who enters, leaning 
heavily on her staff. Snick-up springs 
to his feet.'] 

SNICK-UP 

Good Dame, to grant my wish and come this 

day— 
The last I am to live ! 

[He draws the bench forward for her, near 

the cot, where he seats himself '.] 



MISTRESS LOCKET 

How could I else? 
And many other days would I have come, 
To tell thee how I trust thee and believe 
All Midge's tale, she told them at the last — 
[She weeps, bending her head upon her 
staff.] 



THE NAMELESS ONE 99 

SNICK-UP 

[Laying a hand on her shoulder.'] 
So good old Truepenny's mother stands my 

friend, 
Counting me guiltless of so foul a shame, 
I die the easier! 



MISTRESS LOCKET 

Thy friend indeed! 
But closest watch they have kept over thee, 
Fearing o' witchcraft — which they charged 

thee with, 
The day o' thy trial — when old Locket stood, 
Tickling their ears with tales o' devil's pipe, 
Kept in thy throat; and of some charm thou 

hadst, 
Hidden away to conjure with, forsooth! 
Since they have made Hal's brother turnkey 

now, 
All's well. 

SNICK-UP 

He is our friend with human heart ! 
He will let Midge in, too — is she without? 



100 THE NAMELESS ONE 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

Aye, she is waiting with no fear o' thee — 
Witchcraft forsooth — O wretched, hellish 

work! 
I know my blessed son would ne'er seek out 
A limb o' sorcery for his trusty friend, 
Beg* me to harbor old Beelzebub, 
When he lay dying in his mother's arms ! 
Nay, something noble in thy mien I saw, 
Despite thy shape ; — thine eyes, thy brow, thy 
hands — 

[She takes them tenderly in her cam.] 
Thy hands were never meant for such rough 

work ; 
Thine eyes have looked on something we see 

not; 
Thy brow — thy brow — 

[She lifts his hair gently and looks search- 
in gly in his face.~] 

Nay, 'tis bewildering — 
There is a look o' gentry — like My Lord — 

SNICK-UP 

Nay, tell me of My Lady! Turnkey saith, 
She bore a child before her time — Ah, God I 
[He springs up, pacing back and forth.~\ 



THE NAMELESS ONE 101 

Lay close to death because of me — of me, 
Who would not harm a rose beside her door; 
A something in her sunbright hair — her face — 
Haunts me from out my childhood; on the 

night 
My mother died, I saw such hair, such eyes, 
Raised full of wonder and of something high — 
Never to be forgot ; to see it change, 
Grow wild with horror — O that look, that 

look, 
Because of me — the curse of that one look! 



MISTRESS LOCKET 

Nay, dwell no more on't, lad! She is not 

harmed; 
This very morn she rallied from her spell 
Of torpor and of weakness — breathed some 

words — 
'Tis sure now she will live; the babe thrives, 

too, — 
A little daughter; Mistress Constance saith, 
My Lady held the first-born of a house 
Should ever be a son ; mayhap they claim 
Thou hadst a hand in that, with witch's trick — 
Curse their injustice! 



102 THE NAMELESS ONE 

SNICK-UP 

Nay, the case looked bad: 
Caught with the booty in my very hand, 
Seized from the person, — ah, no larceny that, 
But robbery — from highest gentry, too, 
And jewel of rare price — an heirloom dear — 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

Their tale o' witchcraft, years o' vagrancy, 
The attack thou madest upon thy master's 

throat ; 
Then, O the worst o' this tight snarl o' 

chance ! — 
Mayhap the death — not o' the one, but two, 
If all had come about as My Lord feared, 
With both the wife and child! No judge alive 
But would say hang to such a tale as this ! 

SNICK-UP 

Add to it bastard and a hunch on back, 

Just Midge's word — my friend, a scullery 

wench — 
Did not thy Locket hint at leman there? — 
What heed would justice pay to such as 

that?— 



THE NAMELESS ONE 103 

A cricket chirping to a gale o' wind ! 

So in good faith 'tis Snick-up — aye, go hang! 

The rogue was prophet who first called me so. 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

Was ever such a dull o' pate as Midge? — 

Holding back all until the very end, 

Because she had promised thee to speak no 

word! 
Such laggard story was trumped-up, forsooth, 
All must 'a' thought! 

SNICK-UP 

Nay, now, she did her best! 
But my day flies, good Dame, and I've a wish, 
'Twill ease my heart if thou wilt grant. 
[He seats himself beside her again. ,] 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

What wish 
Could I withhold? thou poor, forsaken one! 

SNICK-UP 

Thou dost remember, when thy dear son died, 
He gave me a joint-ring, which my mother 
left? 



104- THE NAMELESS ONE 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

I do remember, aye ! 

SNICK-UP 

'Twas to be kept 
In trust for me, till I was grown — thou 

mind est ? 
By certain kinsfolk, if they harbored me — 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

[With scorn.'] 
Which never did they — Pah, the shameless 
crew! 

SNICK-UP 

And so he kept it and the twisted imp 

That all despised — God rest his knightly soul ! 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

{Wistfully.] 
Perchance thou'lt see him soon? 

SNICK-UP 

Perchance — and her! 
I have no fear to take the dark, short road, 



THE NAMELESS ONE 105 

Down which he strolled and where she too hath 
passed. 
[From under his jerkin he draws a joint- 
ring ■, hanging on a chain.~\ 
She told thy Truepenny, it bore his name, 
Who gave me never any name at all, 
But bastard — gave me just my life and that! 
Edward — she called me so, but when I learned 
How he had shamed us both, in bitterness 
I held to biting nickname of a wag; 
And strolling ever on to other parts, 
My Christian name sloughed off. 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

A noble name — 
'Tis that Lord Faukner bears. 

SNICK-UP 

Humble, in sooth, 
My mother's title! 

[He slips the chain from his own neck and 
hangs it about Mistress Locket.] 

Take it, I do beseech,— 
Now that I go to pay the penalty, 
Of my deep wrong to her — and ask that she, 
The tender lady of the garden-close, 



106 THE NAMELESS ONE 

Will keep it, with my sorrow and my love, 
For all the anguish of that bitter hour! 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

By His very wounds, I will ! 

[She conceals the ring in her dress and slips 
to her knees, praying. Then he bends 
over her.] 

SNICK-UP 

And now, good-bye! 
[He helps her to her feet.~\ 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

[Brokenly.] 
Bear him my love ! 

SNICK-UP 

The love of all thy heart! 
[He leads her to the door. There he kneels ; 
kissing her hand reverently. She bends, 
sobbing, and touches his hair with her 
lips. He rises, holds open the door for 
her and she mounts the old steps as Midge 
comes hurriedly down and enters.] 
Ah, little Midge, the sight o' thee is good! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 107 

[Midge crosses quickly by him and, throw- 
ing herself across the cot 3 sobs passion- 
ately. Snick-up goes over to her and, 
taking her by the shoulder with a gentle 
shake, draws her to a sitting posture.] 

Nay, nay, now, Midge! I'll call the turnkey, 
straight; 

Have thee put out. I'll not be drowned in 
tears ! 

E'en hanging is better! 



MIDGE 

[Vehemently.'] 

Nay, 'tis worst of all — 
Thou saidst so thine own self — a Judas' death ! 
'Twas when I found they sentenced thee to 

hang, 
I told them all ye told me, by the tree! 
A broken vow is damned — What have I done? 
O 'twas to save thy life — 



SNICK-UP 

[Soothingly, sitting beside her.] 

Aye, Midge, dear Midge! 



108 THE NAMELESS ONE 

MIDGE 

[Still excitedly .] 
I told them but the truth — how thou didst plan 
To give the aglet back which thou hadst 

found — 
Aye, found — not stole! But O their flinty 

faces, 
Staring hard, believing not a word ! 
And Locket's voice, grating his lie on lie ! 

SNICK-UP 

[Bitterly. ~] 
That still was truth — some little squeak o' 

truth, 
Under the grinding, crushing, killing lies! 

MIDGE 

I always feared him for his hate o' thee ! 
And now all hate thee for a very witch — 
All — All's against thee! 

[She falls sobbing again.'] 

SNICK-UP 

And I must go hang — 
Unless thou help me to another fate. 



THE NAMELESS ONE 109 

MIDGE 

[Lifting her head and staring hard.~\ 
I help? Another fate? What meanest thou? 

SNICK-UP 

Ah, Midge, to-morrow, an' thou help me not, 
Upon that ugly arm, a-reaching out 
Its horrid shadow over yonder square, 
I shall— 

MIDGE 

[Covering her eyes.] 
In God's name, hold! 

SNICK-UP 

[Passionately.] 

The gaping crowd — 
How I did ever loathe a gaping crowd ! — 
How often have I seen the leer, the grin, 
The stupid wonder and the brutish stare! 
At dawn how it will stare and gape and grin 
Its last upon me, as I mount — 

MDDGE 

Forbear! 
In mercy, hold — I cannot live it o'er ! 



110 THE NAMELESS ONE 

SNICK-UP 

How I should love to cheat old Gibbet there, 
And all the gaping crowd! — play one more 

trick, 
As I have played so many, to outwit 
Their loutish, cruel gibes ! Silence the quip — 
Snick-up, ecod, it is go hang, go hang! 
That bitter jest would never leave their throats 
An' ye would serve me true! 

MIDGE 

Aye, tell me how ! 

SNICK-UP 

[Tensely, rapidly. ,] 
Well, then, thou knowest of that wooded place, 
We have called Little Hell, it so doth teem 
With deadly nightshade! — think thou, dearest 

Midge, 
How those black drupes would serve me at this 

hour! 
Here might I sit alone and, all in peace, 
Eat of that frugal supper, lay me down, 
And never waken, when they come to call, 
And lead me forth into the glare o' shame — 
The ribaldry o' Locket and his kind! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 111 

This form, with all its dreary, grim mischance, 
Would never come within old Gibbet's reach, 
But all unsuff ering and still 'twould lie, 
The while I strayed far hence and safe at last ! 

MIDGE 

The berries — ye would eat them? They are 
death ! 

SNICK-UP 

O simple child, — thou knowest I must die! 

MIDGE 

But by my hand! 

SNICK-UP 

Aye, not old Gibbet's arm! 

MIDGE 

[Desperately.'] 
Nay, nay, I cannot! 

SNICK-UP 

[Sinking back upon the seat.] 

Well, then, be it so — 
The crowd shall have their sport! I fear not 
death — 



112 THE NAMELESS ONE 

It is not death I mind, but O to pass 
Another way than by such utter shame! 
[He buries his head in his hands. ,] 

MIDGE 

O wretched world — when thou hast done no 
wrong! 

SNICK-UP 

Nay, such as I had never right to be — 

'Tis time I should pack hence, whatever way! 

MIDGE 

Thou'rt sure about the nightshade — 'tis thy 
wish? 

SNICK-UP 

[Alive once more with a flame of eager- 
ness. ] 

Who would not choose it so? If thou art 
friend, 

Thou, too, must choose it for me! — Art thou 
friend? 

MIDGE 

Thou knowest well my love ! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 113 

SNICK-UP 

[Springing up.] 

Then thou wilt haste, 
Gather a heap o' nightshade, hind it fast 
Under thy petticoat, fly here again, 
Tell Turnkey thou hast minded one last 

word — 
A bit o' comfort for a passing soul — 
Then shall I bless thee and shall go in peace! 



MIDGE 

[Weeping softly.] 
Then as thou wilt ! 



SNICK-UP 

[Bending over her tenderly.'] 

My ever faithful Midge! 
Keep thou the smock o' dreams, — my only 

thanks, — 
Wrap it around thee close, and dream and 

dream 
The many things I showed thee 'neath the 

stars ! 
But O, in God's name, haste! 



114 THE NAMELESS ONE 

MIDGE 

[Rising."] 

I will, I will! 
It shall be all thy wish — aye, to the last ! 

SNICK-UP 

[Going before and opening the door.] 
Then haste, O haste! 

[Midge goes out. The door is closed and 
the bolt is heard grinding back to place. 
Snick-up crosses with the bench,, and 
placing it under the opening, mounts 
and gazes out through the grating.] 

Here will I watch and wait, 
Until the nightshade come to weave my 
shroud. 
[He whistles a clear, simple little air of 
piercing sweetness.] 

Curtain 



Scene II 

The courtyard of the Inn two hours later; the 
sky shows red above the pines; Misrule 
lolls sleek limbs and silken foppery on the 
bench under the linden; he twangs a lute and 
sings languidly. 

MISRULE 

Ah, well-a-way! 

There is no day, 

For my mistress comes not hither; 

Bloom on the vine of my song falls a-wither — 

She comes not hither, not hither! 

[Enter Locket shuffling out of the inn.'] 

MISRULE 

[Breaking off with a yawn.] 
Good Master Locket, is the whole world dead? 

LOCKET 

Nay, 'tis not dead — the whole world — but 
clean daft! 

115 



116 THE NAMELESS ONE 

Beshrew me now, a-gadding it must go, 
To see a limb o' Satan in his cell, 
Whatever hap; — the evil eye to 'em all! 
I'll to my business — dangle an' who may! 
[He goes round at left in direction of the 
stables. ,] 

MISRULE 

[Aside.] 
Aye, lose no grain from out thy maw, old 
hawk! 

[Lazily humming again.] 
Bloom on the vine o' my song falls a-wither — 

She comes 

Ah, hither! 
[Starting forward as he sees Constance 
appear in the balcony, much excited. She 
leans over the rail and speaks down to him 
breathlessly. ~\ 



CONSTANCE 

O prithee, hush thy love-lorn luting now! 
[Misrule with a flourish twirls his lute up 
into the linden and crosses, all attention.] 
Hast seen My Lord or Father Michael — say — 



THE NAMELESS ONE 117 

There's matter o' grave import stirring here — 
Hast seen them — say ! 

[With a little stamp.'] 

MISRULE 

[Jumping.'] 

The Reverend Father struts 
In closest converse with a blackbird friar, 
Yonder upon the shore. 

[Nodding his head toward the gates.] 

Methinks, the Pope 
Hath just been poisoned now, so grave they 
look. 

CONSTANCE 

[With a wave of impatience.] 
Hast seen My Lord, My Lord? 

MISRULE 

In the garden-close 
He ponders, like a sage, upon some book 
And— 

CONSTANCE 

Seek him out at once and beg him come 
To the inn, where I may speak with him 

anon — 
I can leave my lady but a space — Run! Fly! 



118 THE NAMELESS ONE 

MISRULE 

Thy flower would witch forth wings upon my 
feet. 
[Constance flings a red rose from her dress 
and he j catching it, dashes around the cor- 
ner of the inn. Constance disappears 
just as Father Michael and a friar en- 
ter through the gates and come down 
talking earnestly.] 

FATHER MICHAEL 

He would not be confessed? 

THE FRIAR 

In vain I have tried 
To gain a word there with him in his cell, 
But proof is certain as I did explain — 
'Tis he beyond a doubt. 

FATHER MICHAEL 

[With a look of profound sorrow. .] 
Beyond a doubt! 
[He paces up and down in deepest thought; 
the friar goes to the gates and looks out 
toward the sea. Lord Faukner comes 



THE NAMELESS ONE 119 

hurriedly around the house at left, fol- 
lowed by Misrule as Constance ap- 
pears at the door.~] 



CONSTANCE 

[Approaching Faukner and the priest as 
they stand near the tree, and talking very 
rapidly. Misrule perches on bach of 
settle by the door.~\ 
A word, My Lord, — O 'tis a sorry coil! 
My Lady hath grown stronger all the while, 
And but an hour ago fell into talk — 
Would ask me questions o' the misshaped lad, 
Who scared her so, within the garden-close; 
And then she said — why, all the poor wench 

told, 
How that he was no thief, but held her out 
Something — she saw not what — and fell on 

knee; 
But hunch upon his back — his sudden leap — 
Out o' the earth, it seemed, so frighted her — 
Thou dost recall how Midge, the little maid, 
Sobbed out in court that he had found the 

stone, 
Between the flags, and planned to give it her? 
And now My Lady minds the day we came, 



120 THE NAMELESS ONE 

I loosed her cloak and heard a little sound, 

Thought something dropped — she saith it was 
the stone, 

And begs me tell thee how the lad was 
wronged, 

And must be saved. 

[The priest stands looking with strange ear- 
nestness at My Lord; the friar paces with 
bent head by the gate.~] 

FAUKNER 

[Laying one hand on her shoulder. ] 

Go thou to her and say, 
All shall be done that lieth in my power, — 
Calm her, in Heaven's name! 

[Constance goes in. Faukner turns to 
the priest.] 

FAUKNER 

What change is wrought! 
My Lady vindicates the lad — aye, clean ; 
His case is desperate; witchcraft, as thou 

know'st, 
Is worst of all these days and, at the court, 
The Faith fares ill; — but save him, that we 

must, 
From such injustice! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 121 

FATHER MICHAEL 

[With solemn meaning.'] 

Deeper cause hast thou — 
Deeper than thou dost dream — to save this 
lad. 

FAUKNER 

[Presagefully.] 
How so? What meanest thou? 

[They look deep into each other's eyes; the 
priest draws near to My Lord and whis- 
pers something close to his ear; Faukner 
starts as if stabbed.] 

FAUKNER 

[In sharp anguish.] 

Tell me not so! 
In common mercy thou wouldst show a beast, 
Tell me not so! 

FATHER MICHAEL 

'Tis told— and 'tis God's truth! 
[Enter Mistress Locket as hastily as she 
can; Faukner has staggered to the seat 
under the tree; she approaches him.] 



122 THE NAMELESS ONE 

MISTRESS LOCKET 

My Lord, I come from one who dies at dawn; 
He hath entrusted something" to my care — 
A gift for thy sweet lady that he harmed, 
With no intent but what was high and pure; 
Thou'lt see My Lady hath it when she is 
strong? 

[Fumbling in her bosom.~\ 
He g , ave it me and bade me beg of her, 
To keep it with his love and with his sorrow 
For all the shame and anguish of that hour. 

[Handing him the joint-ring on the chain.] 
It was his mother's gift. 

FATJKNER 

[Seizing the ring and gazing hard at it.~\ 

The joint-ring — Edward — 
O my God, my God ! 

[He buries his face in his hands. 
Mistress Locket stands at center, peer- 
ing earnestly over her staff at Lord 
Faukner and the priest, under the lin- 
den; the friar pauses by the gate; Mis- 
rule leans forward from the settle.] 

Quick Curtain 



Scene III 

The prison-cell once more. The last pale 
saffron light of day shimmers in through 
the high grating. Snick-up sits on the 
bench (at left) ; elbows on knees, his head 
bowed on his hands. He raises his face — it 
is flushed scarlet with fever; his eyes are 
brilliant and dilated; his mouth and hands 
are stained with the juice of berries; he 
speaks excitedly : 

SNICK-UP 

Nay, Truepenny, nay! we'll hence — out to the 

open! 
I tell thee I did ever hate a crowd — 
Smirking or gaping 'tis the same sly tale! 
I'll tell thee why, now, Truepenny — none but 

thee! 
[He leans as though whispering to some 

one beside him.~\ 
My mother feared the gibbet ere I was born; 
They've often hanged a woman for that 

shame — 

123 



124 THE NAMELESS ONE 

Thou know'st of what I speak? Aye, bas- 

tardry — 
An ugly word ! She twisted me with fear — 
Fear o' the gibbet, mark ye now, while he — 
Too noble thou to know there can be such — 
A man that sires as beasts will sire their 

young ! 
A father? 

[Fiercely. ,] 
Nay, I'll smite thee on the mouth — 
Thou, even thou, Truepenny, an' thou call 

him such! 
[He breaks off, rises and takes a few steps. ~\ 
Ah, now, the greensward — bough above my 

head! 
[Delightedly, he stretches his length upon 

the stone floor and, leaning on one elbow, 

gazes up laughingly, as though into the 

tree-tops. ,] 
Ah, birdlings, I can match thee — hush thy 

throats ! 
[He flutes one or two snatches; then breaks 

off, waveringly.] 
Nay, nay, I cannot now — this burning thirst 
Wizens my pipe to a cricket-squeak — what 

then? 
Cricket's a blithesome beggar on the road! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 125 

Squeak it again, my little fellow — so! 

[He whistles two or three notes hoarsely, 

with comic gayety; then breaks off and 

looks about him.~\ 
Of all the little brooklets I have passed, 
Running away across the lush green meadows, 
Of all the little hidden, cooling rills, 
I have heard lisping in their ferny grots, 
Broad rivers reaching blue into the blue, 
Is there not one to give me comfort now? 
Out i' the greenwood — all was friendly there — 
Why do I suffer? Water is for all! 

[He sits cross-legged, peering through the 

dusk.~\ 
What is it — twinkle, twinkle, yonder there? 
There! 

[Pointing. ] 
Seest thou, Truepenny? Glittering in and 

out — 
Threading the eye o' darkness with gold 

thread? 
Ha, 'tis a firefly skipping down the dusk! 
Methought it was the aglet now — nay, fie! 
Speak not of aglets — they be hated things — 
Witches, I tell thee, with the evil eye, 
Winking a simple lad down, down to his 

death ! 



126 THE NAMELESS ONE 

[He lies again upon his arm; he tosses rest- 
lessly.] 
Ah!— Ah! 

[In anguish.] 

Mother o' God, I thirst! 

Weep, Truepenny, now, and I will drink thy 

tears ! 
Nay, tears are salt! Nay, thine are tears o' 

blood!— 
Now, art thou Christ — shedding such tears 
as these? 

[Starting to his feet, he begins bowing to 
right and left.] 
My Ladies, I would pipe to ye, but for thirst! 
I'll stroll no more, I tell ye now, no more — 
I'm wearied out, and so to bed — to bed! 

[He staggers to the pallet and falls across 
it; lifting himself with one last effort, he 
reaches his arms toward the faint patch of 
light at the window.] 
O light I have so loved — 

[He sinks back murmuring.] 

Light — light ! 

[There is now so little light in the place that 

nothing is seen but the faintest shimmer 

over the boy's fair hair and face. 

Steps and the grating of a drawn bolt; the 



THE NAMELESS ONE 127 

door opens, letting in a flare of torches. 
Father Michael's voice is heard.~\ 

FATHER MICHAEL 

[From the steps. ] 
Nay, Turnkey, we'll not need thee — give me 
the torch! 
[Enter Father Michael, bearing a torch 
and lighting the way for Lord Faukner, 
who follows, shrouded in a long cloak. 
Both peer about and Lord Faukner 
moves to the cot.~\ 

FAUKNER 

At last I am come, my Edward ! 
[Kneels by the cot.~\ 

Edward, wake! 
[He falls back, turning to the priest. He 
speaks with fear in his voice. ~\ 
Feel you his hand — Press ear unto his heart! 
[The priest passes by head of the cot and, 
holding the torch out with one hand on 
the other side, bends close to the boy's 
breast; Lord Faukner strokes his hand 
and calls desperately. .] 
Edward, I do beseech thee — hear me, hear! 



128 THE NAMELESS ONE 

FATHER MICHAEL 

The heart is still! 

[Straightening. ] 

There is a fetid stench 
O' nightshade — 

[He peers on the stones, and crosses again 
to the bench.] 

FAUKNER 

[Pressing his ear close to the boy's heart.] 
Nay, not dead! 

FATHER MICHAEL 

[Bending and touching some leaves and 
berries with his foot.] 

'Tis here and here! 

[He crosses himself and turns aside, bury- 
ing his face in his cloak with one hand and 
holding the torch toward the bed.] 

FAUKNER 

[Raising his arms above his head.] 
Ah, God, too late! 

[He falls forward upon the body, wringing 
his hands.] 

Betrayed ere thou wast born — • 
Abandoned unto death — my son, my son! 



THE NAMELESS ONE 129 

[Father Michael approaches and bends 
over him, touching him gently on the 
shoulder. ,] 

FATHER MICHAEL 

Nay, for thy lady's sake and for thy babe, 
Come hence ! — think thou of her — she must not 
know! 

FATJKNER 

[Turning fiercely.] 
Not know! Dost thou forget his legacy? 
The ring was left for her and shall be given! 
Here on his tender, silent heart I swear ! 
It is God's will. Down, down through silent 

years, 
That ring of broken vows hath circled round, 
And binds us both within: — God's ways are 

strange ! 

FATHER MICHAEL 

Give her the ring — what then? How shall she 
know? 

FATJKNER 

Within is graven Edward and my arms ! 
I tell thee 'tis God's will to have it so ; — 



130 THE NAMELESS ONE 

Who hath forsaken the life he did beget, 
Must crucify himself upon that shame, 
Ere Fate will be appeased! 

FATHER MICHAEL 

Then as thou wilt — 
But let us hence, My Lord! 

FAUKNER 

Here through the night, 
I watch — beside my son at last, at last! 

[He bows his head over the boy's form. 
Father Michael withdraws, casting a 
last sorrowful look back upon the father 
and son. He bears the torch with him 
and utter darkness is in the place and the 
sound of a man's anguish. 

In the darkness, the scene shifts. It is the 
court-yard once more, flooded with moon- 
light. The windows of the inn are dark. 
All lies hushed in the sweetness of that 
May night. 

Midge steals from the shadow of the gar- 
goyle and, going to the tree, draws forth 
the old smock o J dreams from its hiding- 
place. Burying her face in it, she weeps 



THE NAMELESS ONE 131 

bitterly; then, growing quieter, she wraps 
it about her shoulders and, kneeling in the 
moonlight, gazes up as though she saw a 
vision, murmuring softly :] 

MIDGE 

O now, I see thee standing straight and tall, 
And shining bright thou art, from brow to 

feet ; 
A king — the very highest — leads thee on — 

Curtain 



